‘Very well.’
‘I think you should go now.’
I nodded and stood up.
Bennett said, ‘I’ll be needing a statement from you. I’ll send a car along tomorrow.’
As I walked away, a stifled sob made me look up, and for an instant my eyes met those of the young woman, David’s wife. Strange to think of David having a wife and mother who loved him, I thought as I hurried away; he can’t have been that bad. I was already thinking of him in the past tense.
In the main corridor was a telephone booth with an internal directory.
‘Cross-matching Lab,’ said Holly’s voice.
‘It’s Tom. I was right, it is David. I’ll be down in about ten minutes.’
‘How is he?’
‘Bad. See you in ten minutes, Holly.’
‘Tom—’
I replaced the receiver and walked slowly down the corridor — how the hell did I find my way to the roof?
A lift opened invitingly, and I stepped in. Pressed seven.
It stopped, I stepped out and looked around. Just another brightly lit corridor.
Next to the lift shaft was a door. I opened it. A narrow concrete stairway. I walked silently up. The door at the top was marked ‘Level eight.’
It opened into a passage, I turned left. Another door, which I opened.
I found myself in a comfortable living-room, a doctor looked up in surprise from a magazine.
‘Can I help you?’ A pause. ‘This is the on-call doctors’ suite.’
I thought quickly. ‘Is Dr Oakes here?’
‘No. I don’t think I’ve even heard of Dr Oakes.’
‘I’m sorry. Is there another suite at the end of the passage?’
‘No, that leads to the roof.’
‘Damn,’ I said. ‘Sorry to have bothered you.’
I walked quickly away before he could think of any awkward questions. Paused outside to make sure he wasn’t following.
The other door bore a notice, ‘Danger. Authorized Personnel only—’ surely it would be locked?
I tried it. It opened, and I stepped into the balmy starlit night. The moon stood over Tamar and the faint hum of traffic was carried on the light breeze.
I looked around. A builders’ Portakabin gleamed in the moonlight; beside it lay some equipment and a pile of bricks.
Where would he (or they) have gone? I crossed over to the parapet and looked over. A fear of heights isn’t among my repertoire, but the sheer fall made me draw quickly back. A car crawled like an insect up the winding road.
A scaffolding platform stood out from the side of the building about ten yards away. I walked towards it beside the parapet. Just before I reached it, something caught my eye. I knelt and picked it up — a filter tip.
I couldn’t make out the brand name, but it was similar to the ones David smoked.
I stood up. Looked out at the wooden platform that stood like a high-diving board over a swimming pool. Something glinted in the moonlight on the boards.
I looked carefully around. Nothing, just the Portakabin. Reached the platform, looked round again. Just out and back, deep breath, now…
Feet knocked woodenly, space between the cracks, knelt…
It was a cigarette, unlit. And a box of matches. And something shining near the edge, a flask…?
I didn’t hear the footsteps until they reached the wooden planks and by then it was too late. I tried to rise, but a blow caught the side of my neck.
I fell semi-conscious, but was caught by two powerful arms and was bundled towards the edge. I tried desperately to dig my heels in, no good, too strong, and I toppled over the side into space.
I seemed to hang there for a moment watching the stars, then turned, fell across something that knocked the breath out of me.
Clutched at a rough edge, felt my legs falling into a hole, my feet clatter against something.
My hands clutched, my body dangled into nothingness.
Consciousness. Cling to every atom of it like you’re clinging to the edge of the rubble-chute…
I scrabbled with my feet, no purchase, the edges of the segments were all on the outside.
My stretched fingers gave, and I fell into blackness.
As I fell, I threw myself backwards, and my back crashed against the side of the tube as my legs thrust against the other side.
My body held, a credit to the army assault course I’d hated so much at the time.
Only one way to go.
Down.
I relaxed my thighs a fraction and promptly slithered three feet before my muscles succeeded in breaking the fall.
‘Steady, Jones, take it steady.’ The voice of the instructor, my hated guardian angel.
Gently now. Another foot.
Another. I looked up. The starlit circle of sky was like a great eye watching me. Another foot.
How far down? Blackness, don’t look.
I must have made ten feet before something knocked against the outside of the chute, making it shiver slightly.
Again… what the hell?
Another foot, then with a loud rattle, something bounced down the tube and struck me on the leg.
I fell a yard before my trembling feet bit the side again.
Another object, but this time I was ready and somehow managed to avoid it. It was a brick. He was throwing bricks down at me.
I started the descent again, my trembling thighs like jelly. Two more bricks hit the outside, and then there was silence. Had he given up?
I had just begun to hope when the ominous rattling started again. I shot up an arm, fended the brick away so that it merely glanced my knee.
Looked up, the telescoped hole was much smaller, but not small enough. More bricks hit the edge and bounced harmlessly away.
I took risks, slithering two or three feet at a time, my legs like stilts not belonging to me.
Another rattle. This time I felt the pain as it struck my outstretched hand before falling heavily against my thigh. Another one like that and I’d fall.
I thought I’d made it when, like a crackle of a distant storm, the rattling began again.
Reached up, missed, it struck my feet and I lost all purchase and fell to the skip below.
It was only ten feet and I felt no pain, only the whoosh of my breath as I landed, and then lay dreaming on a pile of rubble.
A silvery light gleamed about five feet above my head. I blinked. It was the moon, but why…
Gradually, it telescoped away until it hung in its rightful place among the stars.
I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious — perhaps only a minute. Better get up. My body seemed glued to the rubble… so easy just to lie there and watch the moon.
Got to move!
Didn’t know why, just knew I had to. With an enormous effort, I slowly raised a hand and clutched the side of the skip. It hurt, but the sense of urgency was still there, and I flexed my arm, my body, thrust with my legs and flipped over the side to the warm grass below.
Immediately, there was a tremendous crash. Not that heavy, am I?
Struggled to my feet to see a cloud of dust hanging over the skip. As it cleared I could make out something something that hadn’t been there before. A wheelbarrow, upside down.
I looked up but couldn’t see him, only the grid-work of the scaffolding and the worm-like body of the chute.
I shook my head to clear it and started to make my way round the side of the hospital to the Centre. My body began to ache in patches at first, then as a concentrated whole. I walked more quickly to try and loosen it.
The lobby door was still open, I stepped inside and tried to brush the worst of the dust from my clothes.
Holly must have heard me, she was walking quickly towards me.
‘Tom, where have you been? I tried to tell you, Adrian was down here looking for you.’ She came closer. ‘You’re covered in dust, what happened to you?’
‘Adrian found me,’ I said, without thinking.
She said something else, but I didn’t hear it as the thunderclap hit me. Those strong arms — Adrian!
But I couldn’t tell her the whole truth, not yet.
She was brushing my jacket.
‘What happened?’
‘Like I said, Adrian happened.’
‘He did this?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Where is he now?’
I shrugged. It hurt. ‘Can you give me a lift back to the hotel?’
‘Of course, but I wish you’d tell me—’
‘Later — all right?’
We were walking across the tarmac towards her car before she spoke again.
‘So, it was David. How is he?’
‘I don’t know. Falkenham was there, he said it was bad.’
‘Does his wife know?’
‘She was there too.’ I had an image of the ravaged face again and felt a twinge of pity.
‘How was she taking it?’
‘As you’d expect. His mother was there too.’
‘Poor them. Poor David.’
We reached the car. She drove silently through the almost deserted street, locked inside her thoughts.
Something was threatening to break loose inside me; I needed her yet couldn’t tell her the truth. What was the truth?
We reached the hotel.
‘Come in with me, please just for a moment,’ I begged before she could say anything.
‘All right.’
We went in, the night porter stared at me curiously.
‘Shouldn’t you get cleaned up?’ she whispered.
‘Need a drink first.’ A wave of pain stroked my head. ‘Maybe not. Lift’s over here.’
As we ascended, she said quietly, ‘What happened, Tom?’
‘Christ, my head!’ It wasn’t all bluff, a scalpel blade seemed to be criss-crossing my scalp.
I raised a hand, my left. The loosened bandage was soaked in blood from the re-opened cuts.
Blood. David had needed blood, what had he looked like?
A strangled cry came from somewhere, I realized it was me.
‘God, Holly, I can’t stand it!’
‘Shh.’ She put an arm around me. ‘Try to hold on, just till we get to your room. What number is it?’
I groped for the key. The lift opened. I shuffled out and along the corridor, my mind frozen. She got me into the room and led me to the bed and then shut the door.
‘What did he do to you, Tom? You weren’t fighting over me, surely?’
‘My head. I can’t think.’
She opened her handbag. ‘First,’ she said, ‘you take a couple of these.’
‘What are they?’
‘Painkiller, strong ones.’
‘Why do you need painkillers?’ I asked groggily.
‘Why d’you think? I’m a woman, aren’t I?’
‘I couldn’t forget.’
‘Very gallant, I’m sure. Open your mouth.’
Two oblong shapes touched my tongue, she filled a glass with water and held it to my lips.
‘Now we must do something about that hand.’
She took it in hers and gently started peeling the loose bandage away. I watched her face. She was right, she was all woman.
‘Holly, you must be wondering…’ I began matter-o-factly.
‘Shh. Can you come over to the basin?’
I looked down then. It was all clotted and matted and covered the skin, yet it was shiny too -
A sob rose inside me and splashed around us.
‘It’s not that bad,’ she said, leading me to the basin.
My brother, my poor brother, I thought, oblivious of her, why didn’t I suffer as he did, why didn’t I just bleed and bleed until -
‘Don’t think about it,’ she said, bathing my hand and I realized I’d been thinking aloud.
‘Can’t help it, not after tonight.’
Several things suddenly became very clear to me.
If I don’t get it out tonight, Holly, I never will.’ Our eyes met in the mirror above the basin.
‘Go on.’
‘I’ve managed to keep Frank out of my mind for years, but now, David’s brought it all back—’
‘Frank’s your brother?’
‘I know it’s selfish after what’s happened to David, but this is my one chance. Please.’
‘All right.’ She led me back to the bed. I need something to bind this with.’
‘In films, women tear up their petticoats.’
‘I’m not wearing one.’
‘You’ll have to use your knickers, then.’ Knowing I was going to tell made me light-headed.
‘I’ll use yours,’ she said, getting up and pulling open a drawer. ‘A shirt, better still. And a bottle of whisky. It’ll do for disinfectant.’
She brought it over, soaked her handkerchief and applied it to the cuts. It stung. While she tore my shirt into strips, I filled the toothglass and drained it.
‘Not too much on top of those painkillers.’ She shook her head helplessly as I filled it again.
‘Hold out your hand,’ she said, and began expertly to dress it.
Silence, while I searched for the words I wanted to say. I thought: How could I ever have desired her? She’s like the sister I always wanted, the sister to whom I could tell everything.
‘What is it you want to tell me?’ she said telepathically.
‘About my brother,’ I said tonelessly, and our lives together flashed by like a video, like a floppy disc with pictures.
‘You love your parents, don’t you?’ I demanded.
‘Naturally, I—’
‘I hated mine. They’re dead now.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘I ran away and joined the Army,’ I said as if in a dream. ‘The Social Services decided to let me stay when they found out…’ I tailed off as the whisky fumes reached my head.
‘Found out what?’
‘I did love my brother,’ I said after a pause. ‘We both tried, but as we grew older, the resentment and jealousy grew faster.’
‘You were jealous because he got all the attention?’
‘Yes. And he was jealous too. Oh, that’s obvious.’ I looked up. ‘We kept sparking each other off — we somehow depended on each other, but the dependence grew more and more destructive.’ The flashing pictures coalesced and for an instant he stood there in front of me.
‘We had to share a bedroom — small house — and I used to go up to study. I was doing A-levels. Anyway, I’d been up there for about an hour when he burst in. He had every right to come in, of course, but this was different, you would see the fire streaming from his nostrils.’
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘What does it look like?’ Then more reasonably, ‘Nothing on the telly, then?’
‘Oh yeah, Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, how to get it. If you’re normal, that is.’
‘I saw his eyes dart to my sheath-knife. I wasn’t supposed to have it, I used it to sharpen my pencils while studying, it was a kind of talisman. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are’ he flared, and before I could stop him he grabbed it, waved it about. ‘I’m not allowed to have one of these.’
‘Makes two of us,’ I said carefully. I could see the cogs turning over in his mind. ‘I think I’ll keep it,’ he said. ‘Oh no you don’t? I sprang up. ‘Keep away from me or I’ll cut myself—’ He pulled up a sleeve and waved the knife at his wrist. I thought: If he gets away with this, life won’t be worth living. ‘I’ll kill myself’ he yelled as I made a grab at him, ‘I will, I will — I warned you’ — and he sort of drew it across his skin.
‘It was very sharp, and he bled, just drops at first, then they joined up, and he screamed ‘Get away from me’ and made a sort of chop at his wrist and really bled. Footsteps crashing up the stairs, I lunged, got the knife, he screamed and started bashing my head, the door flew open.
‘It was Dad, he pulled us apart, saw Frank covered in blood and
the knife in my hand, and hit me. I went down, and he put the boot in and I blacked out.
‘They took Frankie to hospital. Next day I didn’t go to school, went to the nearest recruitment office and signed on. If he’d just said sorry, but he didn’t, so I signed on. Later, the Social said I’d better stay in the Army if I was happy there, so—’
‘Please,’ she said, ‘please let go of my hand. You’re hurting.’
I became aware of her fingers crushed together and released them. I’d had no idea that I’d taken her hand.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said at last, ‘except that I understand.’
Without warning I burst into tears, tears that welled like acid burning my cheeks, I buried my face in her breast and felt the material stick to my cheek as she caressed my neck.
‘Poor Tom, let it come,’ she said.
At last, with shallow breaths, it subsided.
‘Have you never told anyone else this?’
‘No.’
‘Not even your wife?’
I shook my head.
‘D’you feel better for telling me?’
I nodded.
‘Is there more?’
For perhaps half an hour I told her everything I could remember. I drank more whisky, yet felt better all the time, as though each word was a grain of sand draining away from a sack on my shoulders.
As last I wound down like a tired gramophone, my eyes closed, and I fell back on to the bed.
I was dimly aware that she was undressing me. I didn’t mind. She’d seen my soul, why not my body?
‘Go to sleep, Tom,’
‘Stay with me.’
The last thing I remember was her kissing me.
But not quite the last thing, because I had a very strange dream.
I dreamt that I was wide awake and holding her very tight, kissing her over and over. She took off her clothes and slipped in beside me.
Her skin was like the smoothest satin I ever felt, and inside a thousand tiny movements made me feel that all of me was touching all of her at the same time… her face watched me serenely… Dreaming and waking, which is which?
Chapter Thirteen
They didn’t come for me until mid-afternoon, which was fine as I’d been nursing a vicious headache since waking just after one.
The silent policeman skilfully piloted the unmarked Metro through the Saturday traffic and about fifteen minutes later I found myself outside Bennett’s office again. I could see his musteline features as he pointed an aggressive finger at someone just out of sight.
Bloodstains Page 13
